It occurs to me that some of my regular readers may be wondering why I’ve never chosen to comment on the horrific Israel-Gaza situation, or on Donald Trump’s claimed success in negotiating a first-step, partial ceasefire and prisoner exchange. In fact, the answer is simple:

Like Vladimir and Estragon — Samuel Beckett’s protagonists in his immortal play, “Waiting for Godot: A tragicomedy in two acts” — I am waiting for a final result that may, or may not, ever occur.

While inexplicably anticipating the arrival of a mysterious person named Godot, the two obviously homeless men, with nothing better to do, engage in an endless stream of musings and dialogues that lead the reader — willingly or not — to contemplate the ultimate truth: the meaning of life itself.

In the context of our modern world, what I am waiting for — and can only hope to live long enough to learn — is the truth behind Donald Trump’s own “tragicomedy in two acts.”

In his second stab at running the country and the world, he now claims to have set the entire Middle East on the path to a lasting peace — an area of the world that has seen nothing but conflict since the times of the ancient Babylonian, Persian, Greek and Roman Empires. But, without an iota of knowledge of the complex history of the region, he believes he has magically been able to convince the current political and religious leaders of the various countries to set aside centuries of deep-seated animus . . . just because he says they should.

But how can we know what promises he has made in order to gain their agreement to his “deals”?

While I — and most of the world — would love nothing better than to see that dream become a reality, I am a realist. And looking at Trump’s recent record of other claimed successes, I cannot bring myself to celebrate this one based only on a tenuous agreement to a temporary solution.

Think about it. How many times has Trump claimed that he has succeeded in convincing Vladimir Putin to sit down with Volodymyr Zelensky in order to bring an end to Russia’s war against Ukraine? But has it happened yet?

And those seven other “wars” he claims to have ended . . . How many of them were actual wars? And how many of his alleged solutions have lasted?

While he promises to be solving all of the world’s problems, what about the conflicts he has been creating between the United States and its traditional allies, or the ones he has exacerbated with China, North Korea, and now even Venezuela?

How can we put our faith in the word of one who has set his own country on a course of self-destruction, single-handedly annihilating 250 years of democratic rule and economic success by dismantling the essential agencies of the government itself, and instituting martial law in cities that needed no “help” from his storm troopers?

*. *. *

So you see, I am simply unable to shout “Hoorah!” as yet. Any exchange of prisoners and hostages is, of course, an event to celebrate; and for that success, honor is certainly due. But beyond that, I must join Vladimir and Estragon by their tree, and await the arrival of my own elusive Godot.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/11/25

As planned, I did get my annual flu and COVID shots yesterday — one in each arm — which means I have two slightly sore arms, but nothing I can’t live with for a day or two. And now, some ten hours after the fact, I’m beginning to feel my usual effects from the COVID vaccine: I’m groggy, and have the approximate tensile strength of this guy:

But I had still hoped to be able to post a commentary on one of the day’s more interesting world events, so I pulled up the late headlines, and immediately realized I was just not up to it. There was simply too much angst to deal with.

Seriously, have you ever been so tired you can’t even work up the energy to be outraged? Well, that’s me at this moment.

Therefore, instead of my usual, brilliantly insightful analysis of the world’s madness, I shall resort to the “picture-is-worth-1,000-words” school of journalism, with the following pictorial commentaries:

Hegseth announces Qatar will build air force facility at U.S. base in Idaho. [CBS News]

*. *. *

White House slams Nobel Committee for not awarding Peace Prize to Trump. [BBC]

*. *. *

In ‘Dangerous’ Escalation, Pakistani Drone Strikes Kill Two Senior Taliban Members in Kabul. [RFE/RL]

*. *. *

Nineteen missing after explosion at Tennessee munitions factory. [BBC]

*. *. *

Trump administration starts laying off thousands of workers. [BBC]

*. *. *

Trump says he’ll impose new 100% tariff on China ‘over and above’ current rates, massively escalating trade war. [CNN]

*. *. *

But on a lighter note . . . or it would be funny, if it weren’t so terrifyingly ignorant . . . there’s this:

Health Secretary Kennedy, Trump linked circumcision to autism through Tylenol. [USA Today]

To quote the immortal Forrest Gump: “Stupid is as stupid does.”

*. *. *

And so I leave you for now to contemplate, without further input from me, whether you even want to bother getting out of bed today.

As you can see, I’ve already made my decision.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/11/25

Well, color me gobsmacked!

I just read that Melania Trump has pulled off the diplomatic coup of the year. And she hasn’t once suggested that she should be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.

But what has she done — she, who normally keeps such a low profile and never becomes involved in politics? Well, it seems that, just before her husband (you know who I mean) left for his meeting in Alaska with Vladimir Putin in August, she slipped him a letter addressed to Putin, to be hand-delivered.

But this was not some back-room hanky-panky. This was an impassioned plea, through an “open channel of communication,” for the release of Ukrainian children being held in Russian territory. She cleverly suggested to Putin that doing so “will do more than serve Russia alone … [it] will serve humanity itself.” [Brandon Drenon, CNN, October 10, 2025.]

She also appealed to his paternal instincts by reminding him that:

“Every child shares the same quiet dreams in their heart…. They dream of love, possibility, and safety from danger.” [Id.]

Atta girl! Strike directly at Putin’s well-known, ingrained humanitarian instincts. Maybe she should also have dangled next year’s Nobel Prize under his nose while she was at it.

But somehow, it worked. And today Melania herself took the podium in the White House to announce (no doubt modestly) the success of her mission:

“Eight children have been rejoined with their families during the past 24 hours. Each child has lived in turmoil because of the war in Ukraine.” [Id.]

That is truly phenomenal news for those children and their families — the sort of news we need to hear now and then in order to restore our faith in humanity. Whether Melania Trump undertook this effort on her own, or was nudged into it, is immaterial; the fact is, she did it. For that, she deserves kudos.

That said, however, let’s not forget that Russia has been charged with holding — they call it “rescuing” — some 19,500 Ukrainian children, or possibly more, since the start of their “special military operation” on February 24, 2022. The first eight to be reunited with their loved ones represent a definite step in the right direction.

But the road ahead is a long and bumpy one. And my hope — indeed, my plea to Melania Trump and to all who have worked with her on this vital issue — is that they keep going, and never let up until every last Ukrainian child is back where they belong: at home, in the sovereign nation of Ukraine.

Thanks for getting the ball rolling. Now let’s see how far it goes.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/10/25

I have a confession to make: I am a pro-vaxxer. And I can’t tell you how good it feels to get that off my conscience.

Yes, I know . . . I know our esteemed Secretary of Health and Human Services — that renowned font of all medical wisdom, promoter of “toughing it out,” and black sheep of the otherwise reasonably sane Kennedy family — has told us that Tylenol causes autism, and vaccines will turn us all into zombies or mutants or an army of terrifying clones.

But I’m a rebel. I was raised to believe in my own intelligence, and in my ability to make rational decisions based on empirical evidence. Not voodoo “science.” And not the word of some strung-out, addle-brained . . . well, you know who I mean.

So, based on my own decades-long history of not having had a serious case of the flu since the first flu shots became available; having survived five years of being surrounded by the coronavirus without contracting it; and never having had polio thanks to Dr. Jonas Salk . . . I have made an independent decision.

Today, I am going to have my annual flu and COVID shots. My local pharmacy has the vaccines, I’m over 65, and I don’t give a rat’s ass what some pea-brained psycho who looks like he died three years ago tells me.

*. *. *

The reason I am sharing this with you is that I did have one mild reaction to my past COVID shots: total exhaustion for a day or two. I wasn’t ill; I didn’t have a fever; I just felt as limp as a Raggedy Ann doll. (Remember her?)

So I’m anticipating that I may be too tired to think for the next 24-48 hours, in which case you will most likely be able to find me in my PJs, hunkered down in my easy chair, staring mindlessly at reruns of the entire 25 seasons of Midsomer Murders, and occasionally taking nourishment in the form of . . . what else? . . . a couple of pints of Haagen-Dazs.

And perhaps a Tylenol or two.

I’ll keep you posted.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/10/25

If you asked me to name the happiest summer of my life — other than the two years in which my son and daughter were born, both in July, two years apart — it would be the summer of 1991, when I lived and worked in Prague.

I’ve written about it before, in great detail. It was the summer that the last of the occupying Russian troops left the country after the fall of the Soviet Union, and Prague was in full celebration mode. Being there to share the joy, the sensation of freedom, and the unbridled optimism for an unlimited future was one of the greatest experiences of my life.

Our U.S. law firm was there to advise and assist the new government as it formulated a democratic legal framework under its new liberal president, Vaclav Havel. With the help of our young Czech staff, we worked hard; but evenings and weekends were for fun — and that was when our local friends became our instructors. Because those kids knew how to get the most out of every moment of life.

And that sense of joy and mischief has apparently not subsided over the years, judging from reports of the most recent demonstrations of snarky payback aimed at their former occupiers. Since the invasion of Ukraine in 2022, Russia’s embassy in Prague has been trolled by the locals with not-so-subtle reminders of Vladimir Putin’s crimes against Ukraine and against his own Russian dissidents.

The embassy is located in a lovely area well outside the bustle of Prague’s historic Old Town. And Czech authorities began — even before Putin’s war made Russia an international pariah — renaming some of the surrounding streets and landmarks in honor of some of Putin’s most prominent victims.

As you approach the Embassy, you are likely to find yourself walking down Ukrainian Heroes Street, which needs no explanation.

Turn the corner, and you will be across from the entrance to the embassy, on Boris Nemtsov Square — named for one of Putin’s most prominent opponents who was shot and killed while walking home from dinner near Moscow’s Red Square one evening in 2015.

On the far opposite side of the compound is a forest path popular with joggers and dog walkers, now named Anna Politkovskaya Promenade in remembrance of the Russian journalist noted for her outspoken coverage of political events — most notably the wars in Chechnya —and assassinated in 2006 in the elevator of her Moscow apartment building.

And nearby is a lookout over Prague’s Stromovka Park, now named Aleksei Navalny Lookout for the beloved Russian anti-corruption activist who survived a nearly-successful poisoning attempt, only to die under suspicious circumstances in a Siberian penal colony in February 2024.

Then there is this sculpture by Jan Slovencik, installed directly outside the Russian embassy fence on Ukrainian Independence Day on August 24, 2022, depicting a “V” for “Victory” — with the Ukrainian national colors of blue and yellow adorning the fingernails:

Clearly, the people of the Czech Republic — a member of both NATO and the EU — are proudly and openly anti-Putin.

How, then, has it come to pass that Andrej Babis, the billionaire leader of the populist ANO Party, has just been edged into position to be elected Czech Prime Minister in a stunning political comeback? (He previously served in that office from 2017-2021.) His party won the largest number of seats in last week’s election, though not with an outright majority.

Babis is known for his strong Euroskeptic rhetoric and his suggestions that he would end support for Ukraine. He has also indicated that, in an effort to form a coalition majority in Parliament, he would hold talks with the extremist, pro-Russian SPD Party and another smaller party. He has also expressed support for Hungary’s right-wing, Putin-friendly Prime Minister, Viktor Orban.

In a nation very much committed to Western-style democracy and support for Ukraine in the battle against Russian aggression, how is it possible that Babis’ party was able to win enough votes to potentially allow him to regain office? Assuming that the election was indeed a fair and honest one, it would seem that there is a sizable movement back toward the political right. And if that is the case, then who is driving it?

While not in and of itself a disaster, ANO’s victory is disturbing. Looking at Hungary, Slovakia and Serbia, it is easy to see an increased leaning toward the repressive political right, as NATO and the EU struggle to maintain Europe’s resistance to Putin’s blatant expansionist designs. They cannot spare a single ally.

And from a personal point of view, it would break my heart to see my beautiful, joyous Prague go down that rabbit hole.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/9/25

When I was about eight years old, my older sister Merna was in junior high school (or what is now called middle school). She had always loved the idea of being a teacher, and had taught me to read and do simple arithmetic when I was just three years old. All the adults thought I was a genius, but of course I wasn’t. Merna was the only one who seemed to understand that little kids’ minds are like sponges and are capable of learning much more, at a much earlier age, than the grown-ups realized at the time, and I was her captive pupil.

Anyway, while in junior high, Merna had been chosen to play the role of Marc Antony in the school’s performance of Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar.” And for those of you who didn’t manage to stay awake during English class, Marc Antony’s soliloquy at Caesar’s funeral is a long and complicated one.

So guess who was tagged to be her rehearsal coach. Our mother or father? Oh, no . . . not in those days. Our parents were not our buddies or study mates; they were our bosses, our wardens, our disciplinarians. They made us do our own homework, invent our own games, eat whatever was prepared for us, and make our own beds. Those were harsh times. (But look at how well we turned out!)

The point of this whole story — almost a soliloquy in itself — is that, during the weeks of coaching Merna for her big debut, I managed to memorize the entire long eulogy along with her. In fact, if I hadn’t been so small, I probably could have been her understudy for the play itself.

And to this day, I still remember about half of it. It’s the one that begins “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears. I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him . . .” And so forth.

“Well, so what?” . . . I hear you ask.

All right — if you insist . . .

What I’d like to know is this: If I can remember something like that — something I learned as if by osmosis, and quite by accident, three-quarters of a century ago — why in hell don’t I know where I left my reading glasses? I had them just a minute ago!

And if I can still recite Lady Macbeth’s mad scene from my own high school days, why am I not sure — five minutes after walking out of the bathroom — whether I actually brushed my teeth?

The key to my file cabinet? I know I put it in a safe place, somewhere I’d be sure to remember.

But ask me what I wore on New Year’s Eve of 1961, and I’ll describe it down to the color of the lipstick in my little beaded evening bag.

I can name every one of the 50 U.S. states in alphabetical order; but I have to triple-check whether I entered the time of my next doctor’s appointment on my calendar.

And — which should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me — I’ll rattle off the names of the 15 former Soviet Republics and their capital cities . . . but not the names of the people I met at our neighborhood book club the other day.

I also know almost every punch line of the entire “Golden Girls” TV series. So why can’t I remember what I ate for dinner last night?

I’m not going senile. I have no problem keeping track of the important things — like actually making that doctor’s appointment, refilling my few prescriptions and taking them on time every day, and all of the birthdays of my remaining friends and relatives (and even the dead ones). But the perfect adjective to describe what I’m trying to convey as I write my blog posts . . . that’s a whole different ball game.

It’s not dementia (thankfully). It’s apparently — according to what my contemporaries and my doctor tell me — a natural byproduct of living longer than I ever expected to. As we age, we tend to lose things. I suppose if we live long enough, we’ll leave this world as we entered it: wrinkled, bald, toothless, and without a rational thought in our heads.

But first, some of us will be elected president.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/9/25

In Harriet Beecher Stowe’s 19th-century novel, “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” slave owner Simon Legree — in an uncontrolled rage at Tom’s refusal to obey an order to punish a fellow slave — has Tom flogged to death.

I’m inclined to believe that Uncle Tom’s Cabin may be one of the few books that Donald Trump has actually read and retained, in light of his own inexcusably inhumane treatment of the citizens of the country he has sworn to protect and defend. He has merely refined the methods and extended the reach of his cruelty.

With the White House as his metaphorical plantation, “Simon Trump” rules this country as Simon Legree ruled his piece of the world. And Trump’s latest victims — hundreds of thousands of them — are the government workers who have been involuntarily furloughed or forced to work without pay, and now — in the mother of all double-whammies — are threatened with unwarranted, unjustified layoffs as punishment for Congress’ failure to pass a budget bill for the coming year.

And all while the members of Congress, and Fat Simon himself, sit safely ensconced on their thrones, supported by the taxes already collected from those selfsame workers.

“Pissed off” doesn’t even begin to describe what We the People are feeling right now. I’m reminded of the famous scene from the 1976 classic film “Network,” where the character Howard Beale — fed up with the state of the country — implores the American people:

“I want you to go to the window, open it, stick your head out and yell: ‘I’m as mad as hell and I’m not gonna take this anymore.’”

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/8/25

I am not a hyphenated American.

My grandparents emigrated in 1905 from that part of the Russian Empire now known as the sovereign nation of Ukraine. Their immigration records list them as being of Russian nationality; my DNA says I am 99% Russian, 0.4% Norwegian, and 0.6% either Middle Eastern or East African (for some reason, that is a bit muddled).

I could, in accordance with current trends, call myself a Russian-American or Ukrainian-American; but I don’t. I am an American of Ukrainian heritage.

I was born in the United States, as were both of my parents. I grew up surrounded by other children whose parents or grandparents were immigrants from all over the world. But we were, without question, 100% American.

End of discussion . . . or so I thought.

Now, it seems, a new category of Americans has been created: so-called “heritage Americans.” As snobbish and exclusionary as it sounds, that’s just how bad it is. And it seems to be gaining favor among far-right conservatives, though there isn’t one clear definition of the term.

For example, speaking on a Tucker Carlson podcast, Blaze Media columnist Auron MacIntyre explained his concept of the term as follows:

“You could find their names in the Civil War registry.” He said that America is not “a collection of abstract things agreed to in some social contract,” but rather is a specific set of people embodying an “Anglo-Protestant spirit [and having] a tie to history and to the land. If you change the people, you change the culture.” [Ali Breland, The Atlantic, October 7, 2025.]

And Senator Eric Schmitt (R.-Missouri), speaking at a National Conservative Conference last month, had this to offer:

“We Americans are the sons and daughters of the Christian Pilgrims that poured out from Europe’s shores to baptize a new world in their ancient faith. [America] is our birthright. It’s our heritage, our destiny.” [Id.]

And Christian nationalist C. Jay Engel, while describing himself as a “heritage American,” still claims that he is not a “racial essentialist,” and magnanimously allows that “blacks of the Old South [and] integrated Native Americans” also count as heritage Americans.

Well, I’m sure that all of the Sioux, Cherokee, Cheyenne, Wampanoag, Seminole, Creek, and hundreds of other indigenous peoples who were displaced and robbed of their lands by Mr. Engel’s pure white Christian ancestors will be thrilled to learn that they are, after all, worthy of being considered Americans.

Then, to add insult to injury, Engel went on to say that “the majority of blacks have demonstrated that they canot function within the old European cultural standards,” and that the concept of heritage Americans affirms “the domination and pre-eminence of the European derived peoples, their institutions, and their way of life.” [Id.]

Well, there went the last 160 years of progress.

*. *. *

As with most cockeyed, self-serving theories, this one is full of holes. To begin with, the so-called “non-racist” “heritage Americans” have conveniently ignored the obvious fact that their ancestors literally stole this country from the only people who actually have a legitimate claim to the title: the 500-plus recognized Native American tribes, some of whom date back an estimated 10,000 years or longer.

And I wonder whether they have considered that among those lily-white early European settlers were as many as 50,000 to 120,000 convicted criminals sent by the British government to the American “penal colonies” as convict labor during the 17th and 18th centuries — any of whom might even have been the ancestors of Messrs. MacIntyre, Schmitt or Engel.

Then they might also want to start explaining where people like Secretary of State Marco Rubio (whose parents came from Cuba), JD Vance’s wife Usha (the daughter of Indian parents), and Melania Trump (an emigre from Slovenia) fit into their exclusive club.

*. *. *

I could go on, but I’m sure I’ve made my point. If you want to talk about real Americans, you’re going to have to look past this group of elitist, racist, pseudo-Christian hypocrites . . . and into your own mirrors.

Because we are the Americans, and they can’t convince us otherwise.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/8/25

I just called my local pharmacy to confirm that they are ready with this year’s flu and COVID vaccines, and happily they told me they are well supplied. However . . .

I was quickly informed that the COVID vaccine is available only to persons aged 65 or above. Luckily for me — if you believe that being old and decrepit is lucky — I am in that category, and so am eligible for my free shots. I will get both this week.

But for the rest of the population, the clock has been turned back to 2019, when we were first hit by the newly-identified coronavirus, and no vaccine existed to prevent or combat it. Since January of 2020, following release of the first vaccine, the CDC has logged 1,235,651 COVID-related deaths in the United States, out of a total of 2,216,648 deaths due to influenza, pneumonia and COVID-19 combined. [CDC.gov, as of September 25, 2025.]

Those numbers most likely include many cases involving people with other underlying health problems who might otherwise have survived. But imagine how many more might have died without the preventive vaccine . . . and how many more will now succumb to what is essentially a disease that is preventable or at least capable of being reduced in severity.

There are also millions of others who suffered horribly through the illness and survived, but still bear the pain of Long COVID. I doubt they would agree with those who claim it is no worse than “ordinary” flu.

I have been very fortunate, and have — since the advent of the very first flu shots many, many decades ago — been able to escape unscathed. I attribute that to the availability of vaccines, which I began getting every year after one horrendous bout of the Asian Flu, when I actually was afraid I wouldn’t die. But I now fear for all of those younger, supposedly less at-risk people around me who may not be so lucky.

And it’s all because of an unqualified, superstitious conspiracy nut who somehow managed to be appointed head of the Department of Health and Human Services by an equally unqualified, superstitious conspiracy nut — neither of whom gives a damn about the health and well-being of the people of the country they claim to love.

No one should be able to force you to take preventive measures for your own protection. But neither should anyone be able to prevent you from making those decisions for yourself, or keep you from accessing available health care when you want it.

But that is what’s happening. And I shudder to think of what the coming winter is going to bring.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/7/25

Where Donald Trump is concerned: probably never.

Because he continues to be outmaneuvered at every turn, on every subject. And he keeps coming back for more.

This time the subject is nuclear arms control. The last five-year extension of the New Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty (New START) between Russia and the United States is due to expire on February 5, 2026. Looking ahead, Putin announced at a Russian Security Council meeting on September 22nd that Russia is “prepared to continue observing the … central quantitative restrictions” of the Treaty, provided the U.S. “acts in a similar spirit.” [Xiaodon Liang, Armscontrol.org, October 2025.]

Putin added that “a complete renunciation of New START’s legacy would, from many points, be a grave and short-sighted mistake [with] adverse implications for the objectives of the [nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty].” Following the proposed extension, he said that Russia would make “a careful assessment of the situation [and] a definite decision on whether to uphold these voluntary self-limitations.” [Id.]

And, while he did not mention whether U.S. agreement was required in order for Russia possibly to adopt a unilateral freeze, he did say that the measure would not be viable if the United States were to take “steps that would undermine or disrupt the existing balance of deterrence.” [Id.]

Despite the veiled threat implicit in Putin’s remarks, at a news conference on the same day, White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt said only that the proposal sounded “pretty good.” [Id.]

While still not responding to Putin’s proposal, Trump — following a sideline meeting with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky at the United Nations in New York on September 23rd — issued his surprising social media post stating that he now believed Ukraine could win back its entire territory and restore its pre-2014 borders, and that the U.S. “will continue to supply weapons to NATO to do what they want with them.” [Id.]

On September 24th, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio and Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov also met on the sidelines of the U.N. General Assembly meeting and “compared their positions on the entire bilateral agenda.” [Id.]

Last week, Russia’s U.N. Ambassador Vassily Nebenzia said that the Kremlin was still waiting for Trump to respond to Putin’s offer.

But there was no response from Trump himself until Sunday, October 5th, when a TASS (Russian News Agency) reporter queried him about it. His non-committal answer was that “ … it sounds like a good idea to me.” [Id.]

Perhaps he was late for a golf game, or busy ordering troops onto the streets of more U.S. cities, or scrolling through his enemies list for the name of his next revenge victim. But he probably should have been paying attention to the real business of the White House, because Putin was focused on the issue of whether the U.S. might be considering supplying Ukraine with long-range Tomahawk missiles.

In a video released on Sunday on Russian state television, Putin said:

“This [supplying Tomahawk missiles] will lead to the destruction of our relations, or at least the positive trends that have emerged in these relations.” [Andrea Shalal, Reuters, October 5, 2025.]

Once again, Putin has Trump in check. He made the first offer to extend the New START Treaty for another year; he waited patiently for two weeks to receive a reply; and, hearing nothing, he pounced on Trump’s sudden reversal of position on U.S. support of Ukraine — a reversal, not for the first time, based on his most recent conversation, which in this case happened to be with Zelensky.

Because that’s how he does business, and that’s how he formulates U.S. policy: not by careful consideration of facts and recommendations from experienced advisers, but by what his gut instincts tell him.

And that’s no way to run a country.

So once again he has painted himself into a corner, where he has to figure out how to keep his word to Zelensky without giving Putin grounds to back off, yet again, on ceasefire talks . . . and now also on nuclear nonproliferation.

That is, if he’s not too busy trying to keep the Epstein files buried.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
10/7/25